


Stay on the scene like a sex machine

by redwineandqueer



Series: Get Up I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Begging, Blow Jobs, Consensual Kink, David Rose Deserves Nice Things, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Especially when those things are cocks, Face-Fucking, Fucking Machines, Hair-pulling, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Service Top Patrick Brewer, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redwineandqueer/pseuds/redwineandqueer
Summary: David’s never pretended that Patrick’s competence and assertiveness don’t do it for him in a big way.Well, he’s never pretended to himself at least. And, really, how the fuck could he be expected to concentrate on anything when there’s a brand-new fucking machine where his coffee table usually sits?**********David has a fantasy. Patrick makes it happen.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Get Up I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147598
Comments: 34
Kudos: 200





	Stay on the scene like a sex machine

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom is so wonderful and welcoming. And damn, but does it produce some good porn. This is my humble contribution. 
> 
> This is pure indulgent fantasy and definitely not meant as an instructional guide to kink. The negotiation is glossed over here, but please assume they've talked about everything they do here.

David puts the car in park and pulls the key out of the ignition, breathing a sigh of relief. It’s not a far drive from the store to their little cottage but with the disgusting mix of rain, snow, and ice falling from the sky, the roads feel actually  _ greasy _ and he’s relieved to be home. Especially after a day alone at the store. 

He eyes the twenty or so feet between the car and their front door, trying to calculate how fast he can move without risking a fall and potential damage to his favourite Rick Owens pants. Heaving another sigh, he grabs his bag and bites the bullet. 

In the short thirty seconds that he’s outside, he’s drenched all over again by the heavy slush falling around him. Fuck, he hates this kind of winter. Canada has this reputation as a beautiful snowy wonderland but no one ever talks about this -- this grey, disgusting,  _ wet  _ mess that is March in southern Ontario. 

Finally making it through the door, David’s attention is immediately pulled in three different directions. There’s the bone-meltingly welcome heat being thrown from the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. And the tantalizing scent of something rich and savoury coming from the kitchen. 

And then there’s the sight of the deceptively innocent-looking object set up in front of their couch. 

David stops in his tracks, a spark that has nothing to do with the fire shooting up his spine. Before he can tear his eyes away, Patrick appears in the door between the living room and kitchen, the smirk playing on his lips dropping away as he takes in David’s soaked clothing and hair. 

“David, you must be freezing! Here, take off your jacket.” David tries to wrench his brain back online as Patrick bustles over and sets about stripping David’s clothes off with an efficiency that should be extremely unsexy. 

But David’s never pretended that Patrick’s competence and assertiveness don’t do it for him in a big way.

Well, he’s never pretended to  _ himself  _ at least. And, really, how the fuck could he be expected to concentrate on anything else when there’s a brand-new  _ fucking machine _ where his coffee table usually sits?

David had gasped out the fantasy weeks ago during the middle of some pretty memorable sex. Patrick hadn’t reacted in the moment, continuing to take David apart piece by glorious piece until they were both panting and sweating into the sheets. But Patrick doesn’t miss a thing and so David wasn’t the least bit surprised when the subject came up again the next afternoon during a commercial break in whatever sportsball game Patrick had on at the time. 

* * *

“So. Last night, when you said you wished I could fuck your mouth and your ass at the same time, did you mean that?” 

David chokes, yanked out of the middle of a very nice chapter on the fashions of Napoleonic France and into sudden, confused arousal. “I -- what -- I mean -- is that something -- what?”

The corners of Patrick’s mouth turn down in amused fondness. “What’s that, David? I’m not sure I heard a full sentence in there.” His overly-casual tone is belied by the intensity of its gaze, fixed on David lying next to him. 

“Fuck you,” David grumbles, pulling himself up to sit. 

“No, I’m pretty sure you were begging for it the other way around,” his fucking troll of a husband teases back, an infuriatingly sexy smirk on his face and playful mischief in his eyes. 

“It’s just that there’s a correct method to these things,” David replies haughtily, drawing himself up to his full height. “And dropping that question randomly in the middle of a lovely, quiet Sunday afternoon is incorrect.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, David,” Patrick replies, turning so that they’re facing each other on the couch. “It just sounded like you were asking for something last night. But I wouldn’t want to do anything incorrect. We can forget about it.” 

“No!” David flushes at the vehemence of his answer -- he hadn’t meant it to come out that desperate. It’s just -- he’s been thinking about this for a while and while it did kind of slip out accidentally last night, now that Patrick’s brought it up, David isn’t about to let it go. “No. I mean -- just -- some warning would be nice next time. But we can -- we can talk about that.”

“Oh, can we talk about it? That’s incredibly generous of you, David.”

“I know,” David shoots back, recovering from his shock and settling into the playful banter that usually characterizes their sexual negotiations. 

Patrick smiles at him, his eyes bright with affection. “So, was that just a passing fantasy or was it something more?” He slides towards David and puts a hand on his thigh, high enough up that it makes David take a sharp breath. “Because while there are certain physical improbabilities in that exact scenario, I have some ideas about how we might get us close.”

“Ideas?” David abandons all pretense of aloofness and gives in to his instincts, moving so that he’s straddling Patrick’s lap, his hands in their favourite places on his husband’s shoulders. 

Patrick’s eyes darken and his hand comes up to grip David’s hips. “Hmmm, yeah. I may even have started a  _ spreadsheet _ .”

If you’d told the David Rose of five years ago that his cock would someday have an almost-Pavlovian response to the word spreadsheet, he would have dismissed you with an eye-roll and a few cutting words. But here, now, with this ridiculously attractive man underneath him, he doesn’t even try to stop himself from grinding down on his husband’s hardening cock. 

Patrick gasps, pulling him closer with a hand on his lower back. “Fuck, David, oh my god, how are you so fucking hot?” He mirrors David’s movements and, just like that, they’re dry-humping fully-clothed on a Sunday afternoon. 

“And what did you write on this spreadsheet?” David gasps out, rolling his hips to meet Patrick’s thrusts. 

“Well,” Patrick punctuates his words with several sharp thrusts and David sees stars. “It depends on what the fantasy is. If it’s -- uh -- spit-roasting -- that you’re into, we can talk about calling up Jake for a whiskey.”

David has to kiss him. When they’d first gotten together, Patrick had blushed and stammered his way through asking for a  _ blowjob  _ and now here he is bringing up threesomes and spit-roasting all on his own. God, David loves him. 

He runs his tongue along Patrick’s lower lip and then licks into his mouth when it opens on a gasp. Patrick’s hand slides into his hair with a moan and they make-out lazily for a few minutes.

But David isn’t ready to abandon their conversation yet. Because, yes, that idea sounds very nice and he definitely would be into pursuing that at a later date but it’s not exactly what he’d had in mind. “Or --” he prompts. 

“Or, if what you’re looking for is  _ me _ fucking you in both your holes at once --” And god, fuck, yes. David’s cock is so hard it hurts. “Then there are ways we could make something like that happen too.”

“Yeah?” David breathes out, grinding his hips down mindlessly. 

“Yeah,” Patrick responds and proceeds to make David’s brain drip out of his ears by fucking up against him and telling him all about all the research he’d done into things like  _ custom dildos _ and  _ fucking machines _ . 

Later, when they’ve both showered and changed into clean pants, David wonders how long it will be before Patrick follows through on any of his research. Because if David knows his husband, this is only the beginning. 

* * *

So he shouldn’t be surprised when, three weeks later, he comes home and there’s an actual goddamn fucking machine on his living room rug. 

“When did you  _ do  _ this?” David finally wrestling the words out from where they’d been blocked in his throat by overwhelming arousal. 

“Well after our talk a few weeks ago,” Patrick says, a lovely little flush rising on his cheeks, “I did some more research and ordered a few things. They got here this week and I spent the afternoon setting them up. Do you want to see?”

“God,  _ yes _ .” David wants that very much, please, thanks, now. 

“And I want to show you, David.” Patrick’s tone takes on an edge that makes David want to drop to his knees. “But right now you’re soaking wet and dripping all over the floor. Look at the mess you’re making.” 

David’s cock twitches at Patrick’s patronizing tone and he lets out a soft whimper. He reaches for Patrick needing to  _ touch. _

But Patrick is a fucking  _ tease  _ and steps back smoothly before David can make contact. “So you’re going to go upstairs and take a nice, hot,  _ thorough _ shower.” The quiet command in his voice is decidedly  _ not _ helping David calm down. “You’re going to put on the clothes I laid out for you and then you’re going to come down and we’re going to have the dinner I made for us.” David whimpers again -- fuck, he’s already so on-edge, how the fuck is he going to make it through dinner? “And then, if you’re a very good boy for me, I’ll show you what I bought. Okay, David?” The last two words are deliberate -- a question demanding a response. 

“Okay, yes,  _ green _ ,” he gets out. Patrick rewards him with a soft kiss that only serves to stoke the fire running through David’s veins. 

Patrick pulls back far too soon, clears his throat and nods towards the stairs. David practically trips over himself to obey. 

God, Patrick was going to  _ destroy  _ him tonight. But fuck, what a way to go. 

* * *

Despite the anticipation lighting up his skin, David takes his time in the shower. He doesn’t know everything that Patrick has planned and he wants to be prepared. He also needs a minute to calm down or he’s never going to make it through dinner. 

When he’s done, he wraps a luxurious Egyptian cotton towel around his hips and steps out into their bedroom. Where he can no longer ignore the piece of brightly coloured fabric lying on their bed. He makes his way over, dropping the towel and taking a deep breath as he looks at the clothes Patrick had laid out for him. 

The soft grey dress isn’t a surprise -- David has been incorporating them more and more frequently into his wardrobe, encouraged both by the nonchalant acceptance from the citizens of Schitt’s Creek and his husband’s decidedly  _ non- _ nonchalant enthusiasm over his sartorial choices. Soft and warm, this one is a particular favourite of his on lazy evenings. 

David takes a breath and picks up the only other piece of clothing on the bed. He grips his cock as he examines the lacy purple panties. They’re soft and silky -- unquestionably high-end and David squeezes himself as he imagines Patrick picking them out. Luxurious fabric because he knows David has particular standards. Purple and lace because Patrick loves it when he looks pretty. 

David can’t help the blush as he tries them on and looks at himself in the mirror. Fuck, he looks  _ obscene  _ \-- the silky purple lace clinging to his cock and leaving nothing to the imagination. 

He slides on the grey dress, admiring how it clings to his body, softening his edges. He presses the heel of his palm into his cock one more time and heads downstairs, unsure if he's' drawn more by thoughts of the machine in the living room or the tantalizing smells coming from the kitchen. 

He walks in just as Patrick is plating lamb biryani. At the sound of David’s footsteps, he looks up, his eyes darkening as he takes in David’s appearance. David preens for a minute under the attention but his focus is quickly drawn to the food on the table. 

“You  _ made  _ this?”

Patrick has always been able to cook but when they’d first met his tastes had been undeniably shaped by a life spent in rural northern Ontario. His idea of adventurous eating had been a trip to The Maple, a Chinese-Canadian monstrosity of a restaurant three blocks away from his parent’s place. But during their first trip into Toronto back before they’d even exchanged ‘I love yous,’ Patrick had embraced David’s endeavours to broaden his palate. He’d been a bit reluctant when it came to branching out in his own cooking, though. 

Until now, it appears. David is  _ very  _ much in favour of this development. 

Ignoring the low buzz of his arousal for a minute, David leans over and drops a thankful kiss into Patrick’s lips. “Thank you, honey. This smells incredible.”

Patrick flashes him a small, almost shy smile and that’s how David knows his husband is a lot more anxious about the evening’s plans than he’s currently letting on. David presses up against Patrick and leans in for a more thorough kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers, pulling back to lean their foreheads together. 

He feels the air puff over his cheek as Patrick lets out a relieved sigh. “You’re welcome, David.” 

“Mmmm,” David hums, nipping at Patrick’s lips, “so maybe you could tell me a bit more about your plans for tonight?” 

Patrick steps back, smug amusement taking over his face. “Hmmm. I could do that. But I wouldn’t want to distract you from your dinner. I know how seriously you take Indian food.” 

David wants to argue, but Indian food is actually serious business and the biryani smells heavenly. 

It tastes even better -- the best David has tasted in years. They chat while they eat, not completely ignoring the charged atmosphere surrounding them but letting it simmer in the background. Patrick makes sympathetic noises in all the right places as David rants about Roland who’d come into the store for an entire  _ hour _ . And David listens, fascinated, as Patrick talks about all the research he’d done to find the perfect biryani recipe within his skill level. 

But soon enough, their plates are empty and the heat between them becomes too hard to ignore. Not that Patrick would ever be the first to admit it. 

“I made brownies for dessert. Do you want one?”

Goddamn his troll of a husband, making him choose between chocolate and sex. But David has been hard for what feels like hours and the rasp of lacy underwear over his cock is almost as distracting as the thought of the machine sitting idle in the other room. 

He decides against playing it cool and gives in to the arousal running hot in his veins.  “Later, please, Patrick. I’ve been good - I did everything you told me. Please can you tell me the plan now?” 

David might be playing up his desperation a bit but not by much. His cock had softened a bit while they ate but the thought of Patrick planning something involving a  _ fucking machine _ brings him right back to full, aching hardness. 

Patrick is just as affected, judging by the flush colouring his face and disappearing under the loose collar of his sweatshirt. “You’ve been  _ very _ good, David.” He slides along the bench until they’re pressed tightly together and drops his hand down to David’s knee before running it up under the hem of the dress. 

David whines, letting his legs fall open to give Patrick more access. Patrick’s lips find the spot under David’s ear that makes sparks go off behind his eyes and he bites down hard. David moans, his head dropping back so Patrick has room to work. Patrick’s hand comes down to David’s hip and holds him steady as he sucks a bruise into his neck. 

The hand still on David’s thigh slides up further, cupping David’s erection through the lacy purple panties.“Did you like the first part of my present, baby?” Patrick whispers, fingering the head of David’s cock in maddening little circles. 

David whines, cock twitching into Patrick’s touch. “Fuck,  _ yes _ . They’re so soft and they feel so good,  _ please _ , Patrick.” The desperation is all real this time and Patrick finally --  _ finally --  _ takes mercy on him, pushing himself up with a last squeeze to David’s cock. 

Leaving the remains of their meal on the table, Patrick grabs his hand and pulls him towards the machine that’s been occupying a good 90% of David’s brain since he’d first walked through the door. 

But before they can get close enough for David to finally get a good look, Patrick stops him, turning around so that they’re face-to-face. David tries to keep moving, he’s so  _ close _ , but Patrick stops him with firm hands on his hips.

“I know, baby,” Patrick soothes, the patronizing tone back in his voice, “you’ve been waiting so long and you want it so bad. I know.” 

David whimpers, already so far gone. 

Patrick fingers the soft fabric of his dress as he continues. “And as much as I love how gorgeous you look in this dress, we need to get you nice and ready to take my cock in both your holes.” 

_ Fuck. _ David jerks his hips forward, desperate for stimulation and way past thinking clearly. 

Patrick just laughs at him as he strips the dress up and off, leaving David naked except for the panties. Patrick’s eyes drop to the purple lace barely managing to contain David’s erection. 

“Those look so good on you, baby,” he croons and David flushes at the praise. “They make your cock look all lovely and pretty for me.” Patrick reaches out with one finger, drawing a torturous line along the shaft before circling the head. 

David shakes with the effort of holding still as Patrick torments him. His nipples are tight, hard buds and his cock is dripping so steadily that the fabric of the panties is soaked through. 

“Want to see your present now?”

“ _ Please. _ ” 

Without warning, Patrick grabs David by the hair and tugs him forward, bending him over the couch. David only has a minute to appreciate the vulnerability of the position before his attention is caught by the machine suddenly only five feet in front of him. 

It’s matte black and silver, sleek and well-designed. David isn’t interested in the mechanics of it though. His eyes are drawn like magnets to the dildo that’s already attached to the arm of the machine. 

The dildo that’s the precise shape and size of Patrick’s cock. It’s black like the rest of the machine -- David makes a note to tell Patrick how much he appreciates the aesthetic choice -- but otherwise it’s an identical copy of his husband’s dick. He whimpers helplessly at the thought of feeling Patrick’s cock fucking into both his holes at the same time, possessing him and filling up all his empty spaces. 

“What do you think, baby? Do you think they did a good job making it look like me?”

When David doesn’t answer, Patrick yanks his head back with the hand still in his hair, baring his throat and making his back arch almost painfully. “I asked you a question, David.” David has never understood how Patrick can sound so  _ calm _ when David feels like he’s going to come apart at the seams. 

Patrick shakes him, the rough treatment making his balls draw up, tight and hot. Fuck, he’s going to come in his new lace panties at this rate. 

“Yes,” he chokes out. “Yes, they did a good job.”

“You think so, baby?” Patrick releases him, running his hand down David’s spine and stopping to play with the lace over his ass. “Me too. But just to be sure, I’m going to need you to test it out for me.” 

David is nodding before Patrick is done talking. “Yes, please, Patrick. I want that, I want that so bad.”

“Good boy.” David’s whole body is singing. “I know you do.” Patrick dips a finger under the waistband of the panties and David pushes back into the touch, begging wordlessly and unable to take his eyes off the machine in front of him. 

Patrick chuckles. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.” He slides the panties down and off, laying them down on the couch just inside David’s peripheral vision. Moving back, he nudges David’s legs apart before settling himself between them and leaning down, his weight pinning David to the couch. 

David whines at the heat of Patrick’s body and spreads his legs wider. Patrick hums appreciatively and runs a dry finger over David’s hole. 

David  _ keens _ . “Please, please, _ please, _ I need it. God, Patrick. I’ve been so good, please.”

“Shhhh, David, I know. You need it so badly, don’t you?” Patrick's finger disappears but David only has a second to whine before it returns, wet and slippery. David has no idea where Patrick got the lube but his husband is like the dirty version of a Boy Scout motto. 

Patrick rubs teasingly over his rim. “Your little hole is so empty, isn’t it? Needs something inside and it doesn’t matter what.”

“No, you,” David protests. “Only want you.”

He’s rewarded with a finger, sliding into his hole with a slick, smooth stroke. David moans, arching his back and begging for more. Patrick gives it to him, fucking into him with a firm, confident rhythm. It’s so fucking good and not nearly enough all at the same time. 

“God, baby, look at you. You’re just made for this, aren’t you? Just made to take me,” Patrick moves his finger until only the tip is left inside, stroking softly at the rim and making David’s eyes roll back in his head. David barely has time to miss the thick finger filling him up before Patrick is sliding back in with two fingers -- stretching his hole with a delicious burn. 

David squirms backwards, mindlessly searching for  _ more _ . Patrick crooks his fingers and rubs firmly over David’s prostate. 

_ Fuck _ . David’s not sure if it’s all the waiting. Or the sight of the machine taunting him from the other side of the couch. Or the glimpse of purple lace he can see out of the corner of his eye. But he’s already a panting, sweaty mess with nothing but two fingers fucking steadily into him. 

“Fuck David. You open up so perfectly for me. You’re so gorgeous, baby. Gonna give you what you need.” Patrick keeps fucking into David, his long, sure fingers rubbing firmly against his prostate with every stroke. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Patrick says conversationally as if his fingers aren’t currently reducing David to a squirming, begging mess. “I’m going to open you up until you’re loose and sensitive and ready for me. Then you’re going to get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to good use by getting my  _ other _ cock all wet and ready for you.” David can barely breathe, the filthy words falling from Patrick’s lips making his brain fill with static. “And then you’re going to get down on all fours and let my plastic cock fill this needy little hole --” Patrick punctuates this with a twist of his fingers, “-- while my actual cock fucks your mouth.” 

He pulls his fingers out, leaving David’s hole empty and twitching, and comes around the couch, pulling David’s head back roughly with the hand still in his hair. “Colour, baby?”

“Green,” David chokes out, barely able to put words together at this point and so, achingly hard. 

“Good boy,” Patrick praises and kisses David, the gentle press of his lips a heady contrast to the sharp sting in his scalp. “Now come here, baby and get on your knees for me.”

David stumbles around the couch, feeling almost drunk, and drops to his knees in front of the machine, mouth already watering. Patrick lets out a pleasant noise, stroking David’s hair before moving to sit on the couch in front of him and leaning back with a casual air of indifference. He reaches into his sweatpants, pulls out his cock, and starts to stroke himself, setting up a slow, languorous rhythm that makes David’s cock throb with jealousy. 

“Come on, David, give me a show.”

_ Fuck _ . David moans before letting his mouth drop open and fill with saliva. He leans forward, reaching for the dildo with hands and mouth. 

“Hands behind your back.”

David obeys unthinkingly, shoving his hands behind his back before _ finally _ getting his mouth around the dildo he’s been staring at for what seems like hours. He tongues the head, marvelling at the mix of familiarity and novelty. It feels exactly like Patrick in his mouth, from the shape of the head to the vein snaking down the shaft. He wonders briefly how, exactly, Patrick had this made. Like, had he gotten himself hard and made a cast? Or had he gotten it done somewhere? He moans around the plastic filling his mouth. 

It’s not exactly the same as how Patrick feels in his mouth, though. The dildo tastes totally different than his husband and the coolness of the silicon is in sharp contrast to the usual burning heat of Patrick’s cock. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Patrick staring at him intently, his hand flying over his cock. 

David puts on a show, tonguing the head before sinking deep and relaxing his throat. He lets spit pool in his mouth and drip down his chin, taking the plastic dick all the way down with every stroke. When he moans, filthy and loud, he hears an answering groan from the couch. 

“There you go, baby, so good at sucking my cock. You love it so much, my dick filling you up and making you choke.”

David feels his face flush hot and garbles out an agreement. Fuck, yes, he’ll take Patrick’s cock any way he can get it. Plastic, real, in his hand, down his throat, fucking into his hole, it doesn’t matter. David feels wild, whimpering and drooling and choking. He tries valiantly to ignore the throbbing ache of his cock and the emptiness of his hole but can’t keep from squirming, desperate for any kind of touch. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Patrick’s voice is strained and David is gratified to hear he’s not the only one on edge here. “Now come here - I want that gorgeous mouth on my  _ real _ cock.”

David scrambles eagerly toward the couch but before he can swallow his husband down, Patrick stands up and moves around to the machine. “Let me get this set up and then you can have both of my cocks. You want that, don’t you, baby” David whines, hips jerking in a futile search for friction. “Yeah, I know you do. You’re so desperate for me. Why don’t you show me?” 

David drops to his hands and knees facing the couch and wiggles his ass in the air enticingly. There’s a sharp intake of breath behind him and then the sound of something heavy dragging over the rug. He feels the head of the dildo slick against his skin. There’s a soft whir of machinery and a blunt pressure against his hole. Then, with a wonderful burning stretch, the head pops past his rim and the dildo sinks into him with a steady slide that could only be accomplished by something mechanical. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” David moans, his head dropping to hang between his shoulders as the dildo comes to a stop deep inside of him. When it stays still he whines, rocking back and forth to try and get some friction. 

Patrick tuts. “Patience, David.” He feels a hand in his hair tugging his head up, Patrick’s cock only inches in front of his face. He strains forward to take it in his mouth and it’s a mark of how far gone Patrick is that he lets him have it without any further teasing. 

David sucks Patrick into his mouth, the sharp taste of his precome exploding over David’s tongue. He keeps going until his nose is pressed up against Patrick’s stomach and he feels so overwhelmingly full that it sends sparks shooting down his spine. Only then, when he’s stuffed as full of Patrick as possible, does the dildo start to move with a slow deliberation that has David sobbing within seconds. 

He’s so full -- Patrick the only thing he can smell or taste or feel and he’s never been as fucking turned on in his life. 

“Fuck, David. Your fucking mouth.” The hand in his hair grips tight, stopping him from moving and holding him steady. There’s a brief moment of hesitation and then David lets his mouth fall open, wordlessly begging. 

Patrick  _ fucks  _ into his mouth, rough and wild. The dildo speeds up at the same time and David realizes the machine must have a remote before all thoughts are driven right out of his head. 

His cock is so hard it hurts, untouched and dripping steadily between his legs. But he knows better than to reach for it and, honestly, he isn’t even sure he could, too busy trying to stay upright with Patrick’s cock fucking him open from both ends. The dildo in his ass is angled perfectly to stroke along his prostate with every thrust and Patrick is fucking his throat with such wild abandon that all David can do is hang on for the ride. 

He can’t breathe. He can’t think. All he can feel is Patrick. Hot and hard in front of him. Smooth and relentless behind him. He’s wild with it, moaning with a desperation that would be embarrassing if he wasn’t way too far gone to care. 

“Fuck, David. So good for me. Taking both my cocks so well. Gonna fill you up so all you can feel is me.” The filthy praise falling from Patrick’s mouth only winds David up more. He’s desperate for any stimulation to his cock -- at this point, all it would take is the lightest touch. 

Patrick’s hips stutter and he groans deep and low. He thrusts in deep and _comes_ , the force of it shoving David back on the dildo. And it’s the combination of the new angle and the burst of _Patrick_ in his mouth that finally tip him over the edge.

His whole body seizes up and he comes untouched, shaking and writhing and wailing around Patrick’s cock. It goes on for so long David is sure he’s going to pass out, waves passing over him, his whole body trembling with the force of it. 

He fades out for a minute, the dildo still nudging at his oversensitive prostate and sending waves of pleasure-pain shooting through him. He whimpers as Patrick’s softening cock slips out of his mouth before he collapses as much as he can with the machine still fucking into him, uncaring and unaware. 

Patrick fumbles with something for a second and the machine comes to a blessed stop. He feels hands carefully sliding the dildo out of his sensitive hole and can’t stop the moan as it slips out of him entirely. 

“Shhh, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Patrick croons, helping David to slide up to lie on the couch before wrapping something soft and warm around him. 

David drifts for a bit after that, dimly aware of Patrick moving the machine away and coming back with a bottle of water and a plate of brownies. There’s the sensation of a warm, wet cloth gently washing his soft cock and sensitive hole. And then the very welcome feeling of Patrick spooning up behind him, his arms wrapping around David with solid strength. 

When David finally comes back to himself, there’s a humming in his ear and gentle fingers are playing with his hair. He rolls over and drops a kiss on the bare skin of Patrick’s chest before lifting his head to look beseechingly at his husband. “Brownies, now?”

Patrick laughs, his eyes soft and so, so fond. “Yes, David, brownies now.” He moves them until David is sitting up between Patrick’s legs and leaning back against his chest. The water bottle is pressed to his lips and David takes a few slow sips. 

“So I take it you liked my present?” Patrick brings one of the brownies up for David to bite into. 

“Mmmm,” David hums both as a response to the question and in reaction to the rich chocolatey flavour of the brownie. Swallowing, he leans his head back to meet Patrick’s gaze. 

“I love it so much, honey. You’re so good to me.”

Patrick melts, his eyes going soft as he leans forward to kiss David tenderly before feeding him another bite of brownie. 

David sighs, sinking back into his husband’s arms and feeling warm and safe and happy. Unbidden, an image pops into his head that’s so hot that he feels his spent cock twitch.

“Maybe next time I could watch while you get fucked by your own cock?”

Patrick groans behind him and David smiles around another bite of brownie. 


End file.
